


The World Makes Sense Again

by TheVeganTargaryen



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s04e05 Haunted, Multi, in which Oliver discovers polyamory is a thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 04:24:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5150141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheVeganTargaryen/pseuds/TheVeganTargaryen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity helps Oliver make sense of his feelings about Sara being alive. (And about some other feelings, too.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The World Makes Sense Again

**Author's Note:**

> I just really thought 4x05 could use a coda, and then it turned into Smoaking Canarrow. I really hope we get more fleshed out reunion scenes with Sara next week. Hope you all enjoy!

“Are you gonna let yourself feel it now?”

Oliver glanced over from where he was hanging his suit back on the mannequin. The rest of the team had gone home, and it was only Felicity standing there, leaning against one of the room’s support beams with a small smile on her face.

“What do you mean?” he asked her, genuinely unsure if he might have missed something she’d said to him.

“Sara,” she replied simply.

Sara. There was nothing simple about that. All night, Oliver had been pushing it back and tamping it down: that overwhelming part of his brain–his _heart_ –that just beat the same refrain.

_Sara’s alive._

“I’m–” There were no words. “I don’t even know if I can believe it yet.”

“Honestly? Neither can I,” Felicity replied simply, and it was a testament to how well Oliver had come to know her that he could recognize the tiny waver in her voice that said she was just as not-fine with the events of the past few days as him.

Abandoning the suit and leaving the jacket half-zipped in anticipation of when he’d need it again, he went to her, and she automatically opened her arms to him. He stepped into her embrace gratefully because it was grounding– _she_ was grounding–and if ever there were a time he needed that, it was now.

“It didn’t help matters when I thought I might lose you trying to get her back,” she added, her voice muffled from where she’d turned her face into his chest. “I didn’t think…after seeing her…I could handle losing her again right after that. And you on top of it…”

“You’re never going to lose me, Felicity,” Oliver said, then added with a grin, “But maybe I should be the one concerned that you love Sara more than me.”

Silence.

A very uncharacteristic silence.

“Felicity?”

She pulled back, finally, arms stretched around him but now gazing up into his eyes, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. “I don’t love anyone _more_ than you, Oliver.”

“But?” he prompted. He sensed a “but.”

“Maybe I… okay. It’s like this. Do… do _you_ love Sara?”

“Of course I do.” Loving Sara was necessary. Like breathing. Oliver didn’t know if he’d ever be able to give her a different answer than that, even as his mind immediately scrambled to backtrack. Objectively, that was probably a very bad answer to give his girlfriend. But his girlfriend was Felicity, and honesty was a Thing for them.

People like Oliver and Felicity (and Sara) lived so much of their lives in shadows and secrets that there had to be a place where all of that just fell away, where the lies gave way to every single truth they had. Even the darker ones.

“I’m sorry,” he immediately followed up. “I just… I don’t mean that I want to–”

“Oliver,” Felicity interrupted, and out of the many ways she said his name, he could identify this one as the kindly reminder that he was missing the point (this one was maybe a frequent guest star in their conversations). “I know you love Sara. I wouldn’t ask you not to. I guess what I’m trying to say is… I know because I love Sara.”

Oliver knew he probably had what Sara herself called his patented look of oblivious confusion on his face. “I know you and Sara were close…”

Felicity laughed and leaned in, standing higher on her toes than her heels already put her, kissing him on the cheek. “I don’t think you get what I’m saying. I. _Love_. Sara.”

Oh.

Most people probably would have thought he was crazy, but Oliver felt an inexplicable lightness at the confession. Like somehow, once again, Felicity was able to shine a light on all the parts of himself that he knew existed but didn’t know how to explain.

“You mean not in a platonic way?” he asked because he wanted to make sure–needed to make sure–he was getting this right. Because they were on the verge of something big; Oliver could feel it. Maybe not big like a trip into limbo to resurrect a soul, but… significant in that same kind of otherworldly way.

“Unless platonic means romantic? No.”

“So you think people can love more than one person at once?”

And then her eyebrows did that crinkly thing they did when she got nervous or flustered, and he knew she was misunderstanding what he was asking. “I mean, it’s possible. Yeah. I think.”

“I agree with you. I’ve just… I’ve never met anyone else who thought so,” he said, and finally all the pieces were clicking into place for him. Maybe there wasn’t something so wrong with him that he felt that way, that he knew–in spite of what everyone insisted–that he could love more than one person at once. And in the same way.

Laughing again now, Felicity just shook her head at him. “Oh, Oliver. You need to spend more time on the internet.”

And then there was a third voice, an unexpected one but completely welcome. “See, something tells me I should probably _be_ here for this conversation.”

Both of them spun to find Sara standing there, in clothes that were just a tiny bit too big for her (probably Laurel’s), smiling at both of them from where she’d entered the room.

“I thought you were resting,” were all the words Oliver could find, and they were completely insignificant in light of everything he wanted to say.

“You know that expression, ‘You can sleep when you’re dead’?” Sara asked, making her way towards them, occasionally casting curious glances around the new lair. “Turns out you _can_ , and I did, and I’m actually a little sick of it. But Laurel and my dad were wiped out, so I thought I’d come here. Maybe train a little.” She held up her hands, wiggling her fingers as she displayed them. “Turns out the Pit restores a lot; I have to build up all my calluses again.”

Oliver nodded, understanding the need to make the world make sense again through rigorous training routines that drained away all other focus.

“And then I heard you two talking.” There was the same note of amusement in her voice that was present before every questionable decision she’d ever made.

“And?” Oliver asked, feeling Felicity tense a little in his arms.

“And I think we’re alone here. Right now. And it sounds like it’s gonna be one hell of a welcome home party.”


End file.
